Pulling Rank
by GeekBehindtheGlasses
Summary: Sherlock was used to Irene having fun with him, but John was a new addition to the mix. A fairly pleasant one he had to admit.  Irene/Sherlock/John nearly!sex


It had been a long time since Sherlock and Irene had met up for one of their sessions. The past few weeks had been very frustrating, so he was certainly looking forward to it. Sneaking out past John had been easy for once; apparently he'd gone off on some kind of lad's weekend with some old friends. Sure to be a bunch of dreary beer drinking louts or something like that. He didn't really care. He had Irene to meet.

As always, their location was a house she had rented in London. It was a different house each time, always one with a refurbished cellar so they didn't disturb the neighbours. Sherlock didn't like to imagine how many houses were currently on short term leases to Irene Adler just so she could enjoy a night of fun with him.

Arriving at the front door, he knocked and waited. At first he started to wonder if he had the wrong location, but then the door was being unlocked. Irene opened the door with that wicked smile of hers. Her outfit was very interesting. She wore a skin tight black cat suit with a deep v neck at the front that cut right down to her navel. On her face she wore a black mask and what looked to be some kind of mock general's hat.

"Good evening Sherlock. How are you?" She asked him, before leaning forwards to kiss his cheek. As she stepped back, Sherlock raised an eyebrow. "Something wrong?"

"Your lipstick, you've had to reapply it because it was smudged. Been busy already?"

There was no sign of anything as he said it, she merely continued to smile and moved back to let him into the house.

"Perhaps I kissed the mirror because I'm just too in love with my pretty face," she replied, laughing at the ridiculousness of it all. "Lipstick is a very easy thing to smudge my dear."

Sherlock just nodded, but it didn't seem quite right. In response, Irene moved towards him and pushed him up against the wall. Holding onto his shirt tightly in one hand, she leaned in and kissed him passionately. He hadn't quite been expecting that, so he wasn't sure how to react for a moment. When it dawned on him he might want to kiss her back, it was too late as she had already pulled away.

"See," she began. "Smudged it all over again."

The two laughed, Sherlock now feeling much more at ease. Irene reached out and took his hand, leading him towards the door that led down to the cellar. Walking down the stairs, Sherlock's eyes quickly adjusted to the dim lighting and he quickly noticed there was another person in the cellar. In the middle of the room, standing to attention, was a man. He was dressed all in black, the trousers and buttoned shirt were tight, and also had on a black mask. However, even with that entire disguise on, Sherlock could recognise him as they walked closer to him.

"John, is that you?" he asked, though he already knew it was him.

In a flash, John's black gloved hand reached out and hit Sherlock on the arm with a black riding crop.

"I am your superior, you will refer to me either as 'sir' or 'doctor', do you understand?" he asked his voice stern and his eyes fixed on his.

"Are you trying to pull rank on me John, I'm not even in the military," responded Sherlock, which earned him another swift smack of the crop on his other arm.

"It appears the new recruit isn't learning ma'am," sighed John, looking past Sherlock to Irene. She had been sat on the stairs watching the two of them, a strange smile on her face. Uncrossing her legs, she walked slowly towards them.

"It would appear he needs to be disciplined for such behaviour," she said, slapping her own riding crop against her leg. Stood in between these two, Sherlock swallowed hard. He wasn't sure how to react to all this logically, but in that more feral part of his mind, he couldn't have been more turned on. "But how should we do it doctor?"

Sherlock locked eyes with John, who just stared back at him for a moment, before his lips began to curve up into a smile. There was a spark in his eyes, something Sherlock had certainly never seen before.

"Well for a start, we definitely need to strip him," he said, but to Irene rather than Sherlock.

"An excellent suggestion," she said, now walking to stand next to John. "You heard him recruit, or do I need to do it for you?"

That seemed to be the moment that all rational thought went out of his mind. These two people he loved more than anything were stood there, clad in tight black clothes. Both held riding crops, clearly to be used on him. He could see the bondage gear off to one side ready for use as well. It was like every fantasy he'd never known he'd had crashing into one. Sherlock began to pull off his jacket while slipping off his shoes and socks with his feet. The two just watched him, with those seductive smiles, as he stripped off his clothes.

At last, he stood naked before them, his face flushed and his heart pounding. Irene looked him up and down, but John's eyes just stayed focused on his face.

"It seems he's starting to obey our orders doctor," began Irene, as she stood to walk around him. She laid one gloved hand on his shoulder, stroking her hand across his skin as she walked around him. He would have much preferred to feel the touch of her skin, but the gloves were a new sensation for his senses to enjoy. "But I think it's too little too late. He was rather mocking when it came to your rank there."

"Indeed," said John, his voice sounding almost cold. "We will have to make him learn."

Irene smiled at John, her eyes so bright in the dim light. Taking hold of Sherlock's arm, she steered him towards where they'd set up the cross. Making sure he was facing the wall, Irene began to fasten his wrists into the restraints, before kneeling down to deal with the ankle restraints. Sherlock wanted to turn to look at what was happening behind him, but he had to settle for staring at the wall.

He let out a loud gasp when the first blow landed on his exposed rear; he hadn't quite expected John to start so low. There were a few hard, sharp blows in a row, each one sending a jolt down Sherlock's spine.

"Are we starting to learn about rank, or do I need to keep going?" asked John as he paused. Sherlock knew what the answer was, knew what he should say, but being spanked by John was far too enjoyable to give it up yet.

"I think you need to remind me if you actually had a rank in the army John," she replied with a smirk, even though neither of them could see his face.

"As you wish," responded John, with a smirk that Sherlock couldn't see anyway.

John continued with the punishment, landing blow after blow on Sherlock's rear. Eventually, Sherlock relented and accepted the rank system that had been invented for the night. When that was done, Irene released him from the restraints and went to stand next to John again. Sherlock turned to face them, his breathing a little harder now. The two just stared back at him, clearly trying to decide what to do with him next.

"You know doctor," said Irene at last. "That was certainly quite enjoyable to watch." Reaching out, she turned John's face towards her and began to kiss him. John certainly wasn't as slow on the uptake as Sherlock and kissed her back fiercely. Sherlock had never imagined such a scenario and could only stare, mouth slightly agape. When they had finished, Irene looked at him. "What's wrong recruit? Jealous? But who of?"

That thought certainly had not crossed his mind before; he looked between the two of them with no idea who he would prefer to kiss more. Irene moved closer to him, her hand coming to rest on his hip. His eyes could only focus on her smudged red lipstick, the image of the two kissing seared into his mind. He didn't even notice John had moved behind him, until he felt a hand resting on the small of his back. Sherlock was now trapped between the two of them. Irene leaned forwards and brushed her lips against his, while John planted a soft kiss on the back of his neck.

The sudden rush of emotions, thoughts and sensations was like a thunderbolt to Sherlock's ordered mind. He leaned back against John's hand on his back, while John took advantage of the opportunity to start kissing Sherlock's neck. Irene's hands were tracing patterns all over his torso, slowly moving downwards. He let out a low moan; his entire body feeling like it was on fire.

"Sherlock," said John behind him quietly. "Sherlock." Sherlock could form no kind of coherent response, only moaning again. "Sherlock!" The voice this time was a loud shout, causing Sherlock's previously closed eyes to snap open.

Somehow he was staring directly at the ceiling of his bedroom. Turning his head quickly, he found John standing in the doorway staring at him with a confused expression. Looking down, he appeared to be very tangled within his own bed sheets.

"Are you okay? You've been thrashing around and making strange sounds for a while." John looked genuinely concerned.

Sherlock's head dropped back down onto the pillow and he sighed. "It's nothing, just a dream."

"Okay, you want some tea or coffee or something?" he asked. Sherlock began to sit up and suddenly became painfully aware of a side effect of his very vivid dream.

"I'm just going to get in the shower for now," he said, trying very hard not to look John in the face while he pulled the tangled covers up. "I'll come...I mean I'll get some coffee afterwards."

"Okay," responded John with a quizzical look on his face. It was probably easier not to ask though, so he just left and closed the door behind him. For a moment Sherlock just sat and tried to process what that dream meant, but the more he thought about the dream the more aroused he found himself getting. Shaking his head, he pushed himself quickly off the bed and rushed towards the bathroom. He really needed to have a very cold shower as soon as possible.


End file.
